


Then there was Steve

by orphan_account



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome James "Rhodey" Rhodes, Bruce Banner & Tony Stark Friendship, Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, M/M, Protective Pepper Potts, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 23:27:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18883456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The Avengers still fresh out of 2012 battle. Tony being insecure but graciously generous with Steve tip-toeing around egg shells when it comes to him. Rhodey being a good bro, Natasha dragging Clint into the vent, Pepper dragging Tony out of the basement and basically, just a fluff of how Tony accidentally discovers Steve's Disney movies collection and eventually ends up joining him.





	Then there was Steve

**Author's Note:**

> I kinda wanted to go back in time.

Tony owns a big building. Big deal. Tony Stark owns many big buildings. But this one is special because he has come to make a home out of it. That was never the original intention, but lately Tony has been taking up courses on how to deal with things when they don’t go the way you want, so. Regardless, this one happened to be a happy mislead, at least after some time, it has become to be.

Anyway, Tony Stark owns a building where he has approximately five other people living with him. Six. The constant variable. Sometimes he sees new faces or old faces, but they don’t stay long. So, he’s pretty sure there are only six people _actually_ living in the building. His building.

Basically that’s how it started really. The repetitive reminder that it is _his_ building. Because otherwise he doesn’t think he would have ever gotten out of the basement, given the weight of his insecurity.

For example; “I want a sandwich.” He’d think, after an unsurmountable time wrapped around a project. Then, his brain would helpfully supply him with images of five fierce, hostile faces threatening to do damage to those who pose any form of threats. He would, as a second thought, look at his coffee cup, which would then be conveniently empty. A little battle between courage and anxiety later, he would remember with a relief, who fucking owns the building. “Okay.” He’d sigh. “I’ll go get my sandwich and a fucking mug of coffee because I pay for this shit.”

See. That was also why he kept telling everyone who would hear him that “this is my fucking building” or “I pay for this shit” and every other things that rhymed with that pathetic tune of his.

Natasha saw through his tricks within an hour of moving in. Clint probably took a lesson from his ‘twin sister’. Bruce ducked his head like he’s second-handedly embarrassed for Tony in those instances, because he has a PhD in psychology. Thor barely spared an ear for Tony. Rude, he knew. Then there was Steve.

The thing with Steve is so helpless that Tony doubted, even with a billion dollar they can barely patch through it.

Steve gets offended like Tony gets aroused. So damn, fucking easily.

He got offended when someone rich in the television said something stupid like ‘I can buy the entire world if I wanted to’ and the next thing you knew, Tony was getting annoyed and clipped commands through their intercom during team mission. Seemed pretty fucking personal for something not personal, you see.

Hence why they barely had anything between them aside from the work. Because Tony couldn’t be bothered.

Initially it was because ‘it’s too complicated’, he’d told himself. The whole circa 1940 accompanied by histories with his late father and Tony’s own conflicted view of Howard was too much to handle so, he pushed the job of dealing with the not-dead Captain America when Stark’s troop dug him up to SHIELD.

Later, procrastination caught up to him and they finally met. He attempted, granted, half-assed but attempted nonetheless. He opened his stupid mouth, then proceeded to somehow, miraculously -oh! What? He totally didn’t see that coming! Cue, gasp. Wink, sarcasm- offended the other man and Tony thought ‘fuck it’ and left it there. In retrospect, he tried to hate Steve at first -arguing at almost every other occasion- but apparently, Captain America has immunity against hatred and Tony has only so much of that to spare therefore, he settled for the second best, indifference.

Or so what he thought it was. Because Rhodey’s saying it’s not indifference if Tony got so riled up he had felt the need to spend three nights in Malibu because Captain America accused him of invading others’ privacy.

 

Okay, now that the ‘how’ it started is over, here’s ‘what’ actually happened.

Tony was reciting his usual ‘I own this place’ one night because he felt like his stomach had finally started eating itself and decided to feed it. Upon reaching the kitchen, he realised how late it was and that the common room was basically empty so, hey! Why not?

He then proceeded to sprawl out on the sofa because ‘Hey. I paid for this!’, and scrolled through his playlist looking for something, anything interesting to watch while he munched on his sandwich. He was doing the whole, ‘I’m going to safe the food for when I watch’ because if he started on it then, he’d finish it and the whole point there was to watch something on that big screen because he hadn’t had the chance to check out its resolution since he purchased it.

In between his hurried tapping -he really wanted to stuff his face with that sandwich already-, somehow he ended up staring at a display of different playlists. Curiosity got the best of him and he quickly scrolled through a random one, a start of a smirk slowly blossoming with each swipe up the screen. They were someone else’s playlists. More specifically, they were carefully filtered playlists that belonged to each of his teammate.

Tony giggled indulgently when he tapped on what could only be Natasha’s. If he hadn’t gone through Thor’s beforehand, he would have guess this was it but this lacked 45% of the rom coms and substituted them with documentaries of baby animals. That and the whole line up of Scandinavian movies was a dead give-away. Clint’s was a mess. A bunch of late night shows, 18SX movies, trilogy of High School Musicals, LOTR, and Fifty Shades of Grey. No surprises there. Tony snickered when he found Twilight sage tucked along those and exited to the next one.

It was a line-up of Disney’s. Disney cartoons, original movies, some Pixar, Looney Tunes and it went on. Before his brain could form a name, he urgently tapped back and on the last one. He knew in an instant whose playlist is which without a single grain of doubt then. He blindly scrolled down the final playlist, registering the familiar Academy Award worthy line up and tapping on the exit mark. He kept tapping it until he came to the main page and he put down the pad, took a big bite out of his sandwich, swiped his tongue where the peanut butter got stuck on the roof, put down the sandwich and picked up the pad.

He knew he was in trouble the moment he went back to that second last playlist. Even his body was responding to danger, if the way he had to take few deep breaths and wiped clammy hands down his dirty jeans were any indications. But Tony couldn’t stop scrolling once he’d started, reading titles after titles in probably the largest playlist of them all. His heart thudded through them, stuttering when he came across titles like Snow White 1937 and Dumbo 1941. He’d seen them too, and loved them, from how his lips stretched into a reluctant smile. Sappy and sinfully nostalgic. But Tony was alone and it’s 0344 so he could afford it.

He went through what he thought could have been an endless walk through time. Finished his peanut butter sandwich, refilled his coffee cup and returned to the basement before the clock struck five.

The thing was, that could have been the end of it. If that was the case, then Tony will be in New York now, perfectly comfortable in his discomfort and trying to convince himself to go up for dinner because ‘it’s my damn building’ and ‘Bruce will kill me if I don’t make it’. But that wasn’t the end of it because Tony just _had_ to go and open his unfiltered mouth during a mission and make some stupid remark about Captain ‘Disney pants’ so, he’s in Malibu now on the receiving end of Rhodey’s judgemental star in between nibbles of a sad and squished cheeseburger.

 

Rhodey had shut down all of his argument points with four words. “Tony, you are wrong.”

All of his ‘buts’ were nothing against what Rhodey had proceeded to say. “You know the guy is from the oldies, dude. Between you and me, playlists are nothing. Heck, I let you use my undies even when we were in MIT. But that’s you and me, Tones. And yes, fine. Natasha, Clint and Thor said nothing. First of all, Thor doesn’t give a fuck. Same goes for Clint, man. Dude has no shame in him. He was probably already gloating about it before your discovery. As for Natasha, I wouldn’t sleep sound when I’m sharing the same roof with her. If I were you. Just saying.”

Tony scratched the sudden itch along his throat. “So I did myself a favour in coming here right?”

Rhodey only shrugged, grabbed a remote, tossed him one and they spent the rest of the afternoon lost in Mario Kart until Pepper sent a threat through Jarvis if he continues to ignore her.

“Tony! Where are you? You’re not planning to skip the board meeting tomorrow, are you? Because if you are, I swear to god I’m going into an early retirement. I have it all elaborately planned. I’m not kidding.”

“Relax, Pep. I’m in Malibu. Rhodey’s with me.”

“Hi Miss Potts.” Rhodey chirps timely.

Tony carries on, “I’ve got- I had something.. Here. To pick up. And meet Rhodey.” He ignores Rhodey’s snort.

“You are attending the meeting tomorrow right? It’s been postponed five times already, Tony. You cannot afford this. The company-,”

“I’ll be there, Pep. You just focus on postponing your retirement plans and I’ll- I’ll be there.” He tries for a smile and fails horrendously.

Rhodey continues munching on his fries. Mario hopping carefreely on the screen. Tony feels a twinge of jealousy at the animated character.

“I’m screwed.”

“Uh, huh.” Rhodey concedes without a pause.

“If I build you a new suit, will you come with me?”

“Nuh, uh.”

“Honeybear?”

“Not a single chance.”

 

Much later, when dawn breaks, Tony boards the jet back to New York. He only stops by the tower to retrieve relevant documents from his workshop and a quick change of blazer. In between sticking his right arm through and shimming off the old blazer, he gets shocked so hard he falls back and cracks his elbow on the floor. He can smell the modified widow bite from the next planet so he crosses Natasha off his ‘Apology List’ and leaves with a newfound relief. At least now, he can sleep in peace.

When he returns, it’s an hour after midnight and he expects no one to be in the kitchen. But the light is on so he turns to leave, before: “Bruce said you share your playlist with him.”

Exactly the last person he wants to see. First in his ‘Apology List’ but he was really expecting a shower at least before he got to that. He heaves a sigh and retraces his step back to the coffee machine. “If anything, Bruce returns the favour.”

Steve looks like he had been waiting for him but Tony is quick to shut that thought down. He fiddles with a mug of his own, index tapping silently. “Maybe I over-reacted.” He begins. Tony puts down the cup he just retrieved and turns to regard him.

“I’m gonna stop you right there and offer my apology.” Granted, ‘sorry’ is not an easy word on his tongue but Tony is not putting with Steve playing the bigger person here. “I did something that you’re very uncomfortable with. It made you uneasy, and while I may think it was silly, I was reminded that perspective is a thing and that I should look at this from your point of view so, I looked and I get it. Not really. But that’s probably just personality defects. Nonetheless, point conceded, my apologies. This is me apologizing. I promise there will never be a repeat.”

He grabs back the empty coffee cup, wills his heart to stop pumping too fast and focused on coffee making. The silence stretches painfully until he takes the elevator to his room and if he caught a glimpse of Steve frowning, he’s not going to let that steal his sleep.

 

In the morning, he gets an omelette dumped beside his toast. “Ugh, omelette. A disgrace to egg.” He mumbles thoughtlessly as he sips on his coffee and carries his breakfast downstairs.

The next morning, he gets scrambled eggs. Fluffy and steamy. He catches Steve’s daring eyes and grumbles in Clint’s direction, “I prefer sunny-side up.” Clint flicks ketchup with his spoon. It slides down in between Tony’s eyes.

The following morning, Tony forgets everything except physics. He’s getting a holographic armoured arm fitted in when Jarvis alerts him to a visitor. If he said ‘yes’, he doesn’t remember so, it’s really not his fault when he gets so startled that he deletes his whole project off.

“Shit!”

Steve, the aforementioned visitor, blinks like a deer in the headlight. Tony’s meaning to scold him for scaring him like that but he spots two eggs, perfectly cooked, with two toasts on the side, just the way he likes and he immediately forgets what the fuss was all about.

“That for me?” He asks as a manner of greeting.

Steve stops blinking and gets two pink spots high in his cheeks. “I-yeah. You said you like yours-,”

“-Sunny-side ups.” Tony nods, taking the plate and grabbing a chair by the nearest monitor. “Jarvis, if you can please, undo the mistake I just made.” He requests in between big bites of a toast, looks over at his guest and says, “This is- this is great. Thank you.”

Steve leaves with a smile and Tony sits staring at the empty plate while the hologram of his project hovers over him. He doesn’t understand what’s going on. Was it the apology that’s giving him eggs to his toasts, and now a surprised breakfast delivery? He wants to ask but he doesn’t know how to broach the subject. Even less, how to approach his target.

 

Somewhere in between breakfasts and regularly increasing number of dinners, Tony forgets to think ‘I bought this shit’. Nowadays he goes up for breakfast because otherwise Steve comes down and he’s yet to figure out which one is less pleasant so he sits with everyone else and eats his perfect eggs. He doesn’t call them ‘unpaid tenants’ even though he’s dying to because someone has poured coffee grounds into the sink like a Neanderthal.

Steve invites him to watch Bambi when he stumbles in one night or perhaps it’s early morning. The coffee takes sometime to make so Tony sits on the armrest, watching blearily as the baby deer gallops across the screen. His eyes burn from two sleepless nights and the next thing he knows he’s waking up on the sofa with two slices of cucumbers over his lids. He groans feeling a knot in the nape of his neck, aims the cucumber at Clint but hits Steve in the head instead.

“Sorry!” He scrambles from the makeshift bed he’s cocooned in. Steve, however, sends him a suspiciously easy smile for a reaction and, goes back to his breakfast like there aren’t cucumber seeds stuck to his blonde head. Tony teases the idea of just leaving it like that but guilt overrides him and he steals a few plies of tissues next to Bruce’s plate and dabs at the slimy mess sliding off of Steve’s head.

“You got some. Seeds. Cucumber seeds. See.” He shows the crumpled by product of his effort at five pair of stunned eyes.  

“Thank you.” Steve says with maybe a tad bit more sincerity than Tony deserves. Eyes so endearingly blue, forehead crinkled just a smidgen and Bambi is the first thing that comes to Tony’s sleep-addled brain.

“Ah.” He struggles. “Sure.” Too much attention, his brain supplies. This is his cue to run. “I’m just going to get myself some of that hundred dollar coffee I paid for. Flown in from Cuba directly. Have you tried that, Bruce? It’s particularly teasing on the tongue. The hint of coco is just right to not fuck with the caffeine.” He rambles through filling an extra-large mug with coffee and when he turns to leave, his eyes betray and goes back to the full table.

Luckily everyone has gone back to their own -whatever they do while eating breakfast- thing. All except for one curiously raised eyebrow. Tony blinks at the blue-green eyes, forcing himself to not squirm under the gaze and it’s all he can afford before bolting down to his workshop with the slowest pace he can muster. Leaving Steve offering an untouched breakfast plate to the air.

 

Tony’s chastising Dum-E for missing a big lump of crumpled papers in between its vigorous sweeping while waiting for Jarvis to run a new set of code when he catches Steve coming down the stairs. He has a pinched expression to his face and if the lack of sun is any indication, its not breakfast time either. Tony’s curious, so he asks Jarvis to open the door before Steve even reaches it, letting in the surprised man.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Cap?”

Steve recovers quickly. Tactical super soldier reflexes and all. “Bruce has alerted me to something I’ve missed.” He says, schooling his face into that of determination. Funny, Tony thinks.

“What? That his stretchy pants design is successful?”

“Stretchy- What?” Steve balks. His face does a ridiculously stupid thing and Tony sniggers abundantly.

Steve makes a reluctant sound.“That’s not what we were talking about it.”

“Is it now?” Tony snorts. “Jarvis. How long?”

“I’m at 99%, sir.” The AI quips.

Tony catches Steve glancing up at the ceiling, feels warm frustration seeping through his skin and sighs. “Okay. Then, what?”

Steve barely realises that the attention is back on him, “What? Oh. Yeah. I was talking to Bruce.”

“Uh, huh.” Tony hums idly, rolling an A4 into a cone and picking up a scattered Sharpie within his reach. He has about 15 minutes left of his 20 minutes break time. He can listen to Steve.

“He told me. Hinted. That you may say some of those awful things. Flaunt your riches. Because you may be, er, not so sure about your worth.”

“What?” The sharpie skids into a long ugly line and Tony grips it tighter. “What did you just say?”

Steve holds both hands up in surrender. “I don’t believe it.” He assures. As if that notion is as mythical as unicorns and storks carrying babies.

But the damage has been done. Tony’s face scrunches under stress and his palms can’t stop sweating. His breathing picks up and he taps a random beat to his sternum. A nervous jig. “You shouldn’t.” He grits out, tightly. Takes a deep inhale, turns his focus back to the paper-hat he’s making for DUM- E and sneers. “I’m a billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, Cap. Why would I, Tony Stark, feel unworthy?”

Steve’s silent for so long that Tony’s about half convinced he had left. It was only why he looks up. But the man is there alright. Still standing in that ridiculous pose of his. Bulky biceps flexed and crossed against his chest as he studies Tony. “I didn’t say anything about unworthy.”

Tony splutters indignantly, “You were saying something along the line of ‘worth’. I’m not stupid.”

“No, of course you’re not.” Steve relaxes his stance. Turns away and heads for the exit. “You also forgot the genius part of it. Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and genius, Tony.” He smirks as he shuts the door close behind him.

 

Tony doesn’t see Steve for weeks after that. Absolutely, intentionally.

He skips dinners and breakfasts, asks Jarvis about the occupancy of the communal space before he makes his way up there, sacrifices his golden tan for a winter-pale complexion that comes with locking one-self in the basement for a ridiculously extended period of time and eventually he gets dragged upstairs like a child by Pepper Potts.

“You’re being a child.” She scolds him tersely. “I have Fury demanding records of your old therapy sessions. Before you argue, you’re giving me lesser credit if you would think I’ll give him that. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t get me wary.”

“You don’t have to worry, Pepper.” He groans into his pillow. He had almost forgotten how pillows feel.

“Wary. Not worry. I don’t worry.” She sounds oddly muffled.

“Of course you don’t, Pepz.” He smiles sleepily. He can hear her going through his closet, the metal hangers clinking against each other.

“We’re going out. Rhodey’s with Happy downstairs. Get yourself cleaned up.”

Tony lets out an unabashed groan. His entire body is sore. He’s seeing stars each time he blinks. He’s probably going to faint anytime soon but sun and fresh air is suddenly very tempting. So, he drags his wasted self to the bathroom anyway.

Until he’s suddenly wrapped in way too much comfort which is apparently what his body just needs and he lets out a muffled moan. He’s back on the bed. Luxury cushioning and faint angry voices. When did he get back on bed? He thought he had an appointment with Rhodey and Pepper with sun and fresh air. Doesn’t really matter. Where he is now is much better anyway and he drifts back to sleep, eyes unopened.

When he startles awake from a dream of suffocating comfort, the sun is gone and he sees Rhodey’s shadow on his bed. Rhodey with his Stark pad tapping on shiny jewels next to his bed.  

“What are you doing?”

“Crushing your ass in bejewelled, duh.”

Tony lets out a snort, shifts sideways and rubs sleep off his eyes. He can feel drool sticking to the side of his lips and he groans at that. Tony never drools. He had mastered how to sleep without drooling so, he never drools. This is degrading.

“What the fuck happened?”

Rhodey gives him a quick once over then goes back to tapping at the transparent pad with a renewed vigour.

“Nothing new. You collapsed from exhaustion, Pepper freaked out and you know how when Pepper freaks out she tends to freak out others too?”

Oh, god. Tony’s getting a bad feeling about this. “Please don’t tell me-,”

“So the whole tower freaked out -,”

“And now you’re telling me.”

“- and, your team found out the extend of your reckless tendencies now except Natasha. Chic just strutted out like she knew it all along, dragging Clint with her. But Bruce cooked you porridge. I ate it. It’s good stuff. Then Pepper and Captain America had a shouting match, that was entertaining. I didn’t seeThor though? I was kinda hoping for some of those Asgardian stuff since we were all getting chummy here.”

Tony gives him a betrayed look.

“What? They’re really good and you know that.”

Somewhere between Pepper freaking out and Bruce’s porridge, Tony is fully erected against the headboard now. He wipes the dried drool off his face and fixes Rhodey with a stare. “Thor’s in Asgard. Why was Pepper arguing with Rogers?”

Rhodey gives him a disinterested look then slides an index to line three red jewels vertically. Tony’s half tempted to yank the Stark pad away. “Rhodey.” He presses.

The man in question gives a defeated sigh and finally abandons the device. “Look, Tony. I don’t get you and I’m cool with that. You do these weird stuffs and almost get yourself killed and I’m getting used to that. Pepper acts like she is but she isn’t, okay. I know you know that but you should really start _considering_ it. You scared her big time today, Tones. She freaked out big. Like massive, titanic big. She almost went for the fire alarm but she said she heard you snoring when she checked for your pulse and that was the only thing that stopped her.” Rhodey snorts.

“I’m saying all these because I don’t want you getting mad at her for lashing out at every one of your teammates for letting you get this far. I’ve never seen her that livid and personally I think she’s accounted for. You weren’t exactly looking peachy there, pal. So when dear old Captain asked why you’re forcing yourself to accommodate them when you’re clearly very uncomfortable, Pepper may or may not have mentioned something about you having a vague resemblance of a family for the first time and being too wimpy to say you wanna be a part of it.”

“Urghhh.” Tony groans. Sticks a pillow, then another against his face.

“May I add, I tried to stop her. Like I gave a look from here. Not my fault she wasn’t looking my way.”

“Fuck off, Rhodes.”

Rhodey chuckles, pulls the stack of pillows away from Tony’s face. “You’re not giving them a chance if you’re not letting them understand your weird quirks, dude.”

“I’m going to Malibu.” Tony declares, decisively.

Rhodey picks up the Stark pad. “Jarvis won’t let you. He’s taking Pepper’s orders for now. Also Natasha said something about Clint, vent and nest? So I don’t know man. I think you’re stuck here for now.”

Tony flops onto his stomach and muffles another groan into the mattress.

“You guys good at kidnapping too right? Avengers and all. I assume if you’re good at rescue then, you’d be good at kidnapping too.” Rhodey shrugs from his seat before whooping loudly when his score tops Tony’s.

 

Tony’s good at hiding.

“Hey, Tony.”

But Hawkeye’s great at finding.

“Fuck!” Tony spills his coffee.

Minutes later, Steve comes bearing a breakfast platter and a new mug of coffee.

“What’s this?” Tony asks when Steve hands him a large bottle of water.

“Stay hydrated, Tony.” Is all he offers before leaving.

Come dinner time, Bruce is at his workshop’s door. Tony denies his access, mouthing ‘sorry’ really big and wide, his chapped lips start bleeding. He grabs a tissue before narrowly avoiding a heart attack when Natasha drops from somewhere above him.

“Meal time, Tony.” She leers at him. Low voice and sultry like she’s on a mission.

Clint waves at him eagerly from the vent and Tony half jogs to the exit.

“Invasion of privacy!” He yells as he goes up the stairs. Steve greets him at the foot of it, invites him for a movie after dinner, “Let’s watch Dumbo.” He says and Tony goes pink by the ears.

 

Things go on like that until Tony develops an awful habit of putting off his work for breakfast and dinner. He’s not happy but the rest of them seem to be; he’d never seen Bruce smiling as frequently and Tony’s not a monster so, he keeps this new routine.

His sleeping habit is not that salvageable. But if Steve invites him for a movie every time he comes up to get coffee, he tries to make nothing of it. He got suspicious at first. Demanded Steve to stop it at once, claimed that he’s not a baby. He doesn’t need someone hovering over him every second. He can take care of himself very well, thank you very much. But Steve had looked like a kicked puppy and confessed to liking watching movies with Tony in a soft voice and Tony likes puppies too much even if he doesn’t own one so, he had grumbled and pretended to be occupied with his phone while sinking into his usual spot beside Steve and stayed until Cinderella married her prince charming. If he thought Steve would make a dashing prince charming, he didn’t shared it with anyone.

Breakfast and dinner is very much about the team but Disney movie nights are almost exclusively about Tony and Steve.

Sometimes Clint and Thor join them, but after once or twice each, they seem to get the gist. They’re not exactly unwelcomed but they don’t feel especially comfortable either. Tony throws the invitation around liberally, nonetheless. Steve gets all quiet and moody when he does it. After his one time, Clint teases, “Nobody likes third wheeling, Tony.”

Tony gets pink in his ears, Steve’s blood rushes high up in his cheeks and Thor slams his beer bottle with a booming laughter. Neither of them deny it.

Over time, Cap becomes Rogers and Rogers becomes Steve. When Tony gets careless, he mixes ‘honeybunch’ and ‘sweet cherry pie’ with it. Steve turns a deep shade of red but always acts like Tony never slipped. If he likes it, he’s not doing a good job at hiding it.

 

“I was thinking ‘The Lion King’.” Tony says conversationally as the elevator doors open to reveal Steve.

“I thought you don’t like it.” The other man narrows his eyes suspiciously. Receiving his mug of hot cocoa from Tony with a murmured thank you as he leans against the island, taking a careful sip. Tony slides onto a stool close to Steve, his knees brushing warmly against Steve’s thighs. He focuses on blowing on his coffee.

“Everybody likes The Lion King. I just wanted Howard to be more like Mufasa when I was young and got too ashamed of that thought now so I said I don’t like it.” He shrugs good naturedly. Steve’s eyes are heavy on him like they usually get when Tony answers his questions honestly. No hiding behind careless humour and cheesy digressions. He doesn’t indulge Steve very often with it but he gets away during the most unexpected times. Like now.

What can he say? Tony is all about that surprise element.

“You wanna watch the first one, second one or the third one?” Steve asks after a while. His demeanour unaffected even in the slightest.

Maybe that’s why Tony does it. Maybe because no matter how pathetic he paints himself to be, Steve never feels sorry for him. Or does, but hides it excellently. Either way, doesn’t matter. What matters is that, Tony appreciates the indifference. So, he lets himself be frank with Steve.

“There’s a third one?” He makes a face.

“There’s a third one.” Steve nods, reciprocating with a small smirk.

Tony takes a sip of his coffee and stands up. Steve follows his path to their usual seat. It’s 0230, they can hear Natasha shooting somewhere upstairs. Bullets after bullets propelling with calculated beats. Tony taps on his Stark pad and extends it to Steve. “Let’s start from the beginning shall we?”

Steve considers him for a ten stunted seconds before extracting the coffee cup from his hand as well. He deposits the Stark pad and his own steaming cocoa onto the coffee table blindly, eyes never leaving Tony. When he leans in for a kiss, Tony is wonderfully surprised that he doesn’t suppress an indulgent moan. He thinks of Steve, surprises, 3 AMs and vaguely of Natasha still awake among them. But he knows that Natasha will never interrupt just like he knows Steve loves surprising him as much Tony does, him. He processes all that and he darts his tongue out carefully. Licks the full bottom lip within his reach and grins when Steve groans and deepens the kiss.

At 0315, when Steve slips his broad hand beneath Tony’s wifebeater, Tony calls him out fondly for ‘invasion of privacy’. Steve laughs but goes back to kissing him. They don’t even start on The Lion King. Steve promises they will tomorrow night, same place, same time. Tony bites from saying, it’s morning not night. Just nods gleefully and kisses him one last time before disappearing into the shop.

They start on The Lion King just like Steve promised the following night. Or day. Whichever. Started but spent the rest of the movie too busy wrapped around each other, tongue against tongue, wondering lips and grabbing hands. Few more continuous repeats later, it starts to become a new routine.

‘Disney movie night’ brings a whole new meaning to the table now. Tony and Steve don’t exactly hide it but the way Clint takes a go at it becomes a tad too much for the liking. So if Clint happens to come across an arrow that bites when he grabbed the end of it, Tony’s not taking the blame for it.

 


End file.
